


Dessert First

by newtypeshadow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Also kind of, Alternate Universe, Beta Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes is a menace, Bucky take the wheel, Bucky's driving this relationship is the point, Captain America Steve Rogers, Dirty Talk, Dodger knows what's up, Dogs, Dom Bucky Barnes, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fade to Black, First Dates, Getting Together, Identity Porn, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Meet-Cute, Mentioned Sam Wilson - Freeform, Modern Bucky Barnes, Modern Steve Rogers, Multi, Omega Tony Stark, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Scenting, Soulmates, Sub Tony Stark, Switch Steve Rogers, Threesome - M/M/M, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, You Have Been Warned, and he is not impressed, kind of, post-serum Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtypeshadow/pseuds/newtypeshadow
Summary: Whoever they are, just thescentof the alpha and beta couple Tony dog-sat for jumpstarted his heat a week early. And now they want to meet him.And probably kill him for stinking up their house with pre-heat scent.(Bucky and Steve do not, in fact, want to kill him.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 87
Kudos: 1288
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020, WinterIronShield*, betaverse





	1. Bucky

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Sagana Rojana Olt](/users/Sagana_Rojana_Olt), [Narutaisho](/users/Narutaisho), and [Fearlesslexi](/users/Fearlesslexi) for betaing! Any mistakes you find are mine.
> 
> Chapter 1 fulfills Banned Together Bingo square N3 - Free space: Questionable.
> 
> Chapter 2 fulfills Banned Together Bingo square N1 - Sexy Talk.

"Looks like the dog-sitter left already," Bucky is relieved to note when Steve pulls his SUV into their well-to-do cul-de-sac, and no strange car is parked in their driveway or at the curb in front of their house. The last thing he wants to deal with, coming home from an op he and his husband did as a favor to Sam, is some Captain America and Winter Soldier fanboy.

The movie about them taking down Hydra was fun and netted them enough to leave the army with a nest egg, but it also turned them into minor celebrities, and dealing with fans is exhausting. Just because that kind of social navigation comes easier to him as a beta doesn't mean he wants to deal with people _all_ the time. Steve is an alpha; he can fall back on being the strong, silent type, and no one judges him or guesses his reticence is in large part because his brand of social awkwardness usually ends in apologies or fist fights. Unfortunately, betas don't have the same luxury of ducking out of social interactions without garnering censure.

"We told him what time we'd be back," Steve reminds Bucky as they wait for the garage door to open. "He knew to leave before that."

"Yeah," Bucky says with a sigh. "Was just a little paranoid he'd've found where we stashed all our pictures and decided not to follow instructions."

When Steve opens the door to the house, Bucky wishes the dog-sitter _had_ disobeyed instructions.

It's like Steve's first rut all over again, the way the delectable omega pre-heat scent slams into Bucky and overwhelms him with lust. It permeates the house. And although it doesn't hit him as hard as it would an alpha, with his enhanced nose it doesn't need to. He's hard almost instantly. "Fuck, Stevie," he gasps.

Steve is groaning, slumped against the open kitchen door, duffel bag dropped barely a foot inside the mudroom. Bucky kicks the garage door shut to keep the scent from escaping, and staggers deeper into the house, pulling Steve along with him. It's even stronger in the kitchen and living room. Bucky can't help making a beeline for their bedroom, where he's sure it'll be strongest. God, he can't wait to fuck Steve surrounded by it.

Their boxer, Dodger, clambering up to greet them with sloppy kisses and enthusiastic leaning and rubbing against their legs derails Bucky's self-imposed mission long enough to get some wits back. Dodger looks happy and healthy, his water bowl is still plenty full, the house looks clean, the dishwasher light says the dishes are too, and when Steve checks the perimeter and Bucky the interior, they discover all the trash and recycling has been taken out.

Bucky is far more impressed by this conscientiousness than he probably should be—but in his defense, he's a little addled by the heat scent of his and Steve's omega scent-mate. Finding Steve was a minor miracle; finding _another_ scent-mate is practically unheard of.

He and Steve play with Dodger like good dog-parents, then take him on a walk (which helps clear their heads a little) and feed him promptly at seven, as usual. Then Bucky cooks dinner while Steve unloads the dishwasher and sets the table. Neither ventures near their bedroom—but there's an edge to their movements, a sexual tension driven by the scent of their mysterious missing omega.

Steve's starting to smell like rut just from their dog-sitter's heat scent, and keeps getting distracted when Bucky talks to him; rut brain settling in.

Bucky knows he should send Steve outside to wear Dodger out playing fetch in the yard; and then strip their bed and wash the sheets and put new ones on, and start airing out the house to minimize the risk of Steve going into full rut in the next few hours. It's probably creepy to want to marinate in a strange omega's heat scent instead. And sleep curled up in it with his husband. And revel in the way it gets his alpha so hot he's wild with it and can't go ten minutes without wanting to put Bucky on his stomach or back and fuck him until he knots. A good man would recognize the dog-sitter as a scent-mate and call up Sam to get the guy's number, then set up a date and court the omega nice and proper.

But Steve puts his fork down and says, "Bucky," in _that_ voice, cheeks flushed and blue eyes blown nearly black, and he stands up like a predator, like an _alpha_ , with intent…

And Bucky's heart pounds and his dick throbs and he stands too, and grabs Steve by the belt loops, and whole-heartedly agrees, "Let's go to bed."


	2. Tony

"They want to meet you," Rhodey says.

Tony nearly drops his phone. "They wanna what now?" he asks, though he heard his best friend just fine.

The mysterious couple Tony dog-sat for two weeks ago, whose mouthwatering alpha and beta scents kicked off Tony's heat a week early; the couple so secretive there wasn't a single photograph of them or anyone else in their house, and whose instructions for the week of pet-sitting their boxer, Dodger, included 'delete our number when you leave'; wants to meet him. _Shit_.

They probably want to murder him. Tony definitely drenched their bed in heat scent, since he'd been sleeping in the master bedroom—as instructed!—when, two nights before the end of the job, his pre-heat symptoms showed up uninvited and with a vengeance. He hadn't started his heat in earnest until the day after he left, but the scent would still have been strong enough by that time to saturate their main floor. And he hadn't washed the sheets or remade the bed, either. _Fuck!_ Okay, to be fair, they'd written in their care and feeding of Dodger instructions that they'd do that when they got home. And remaking the bed wouldn't have fixed the rest of the house anyway. But _still_.

"Are they mad?" Tony sucks in a breath through his teeth and winces, because, yes, of _course_ they're mad. Dumb question. "Fuck. Rhodey, if they kill me I'm blaming you, and I will haunt you 'til you avenge me."

Rhodey's laughter is wholly unsupportive. "I'm sure you will," he says. "You can relax though, Tony. Sam says they're not mad, and you did a good job. All I know is they want to meet you. You up for that?"

Tony flushes and fiddles with a rip in his MIT hoodie, remembering the mouthwatering scents of alpha and beta that had inundated his nose the moment he stepped inside the Barnes residence. He thinks of last week, spent in the throes of heat, head buried in the dirty sweatshirts he'd worn at their house because their scents had seeped into the fabric during his stay, and fucking himself with his thickest dildo, rutting into the sheets, and wishing he were back in that bed ten minutes and an eternity away with the faceless alpha and beta couple responsible for the most intense heat Tony's had in his life.

The hopeless romantic in him can't help hoping this proposed meeting means Steve and James Barnes _also_ want him back in their bed. That maybe Tony is the omega they've been waiting for to complete their triad, like it goes in all the movies. God knows Tony's never reacted to anyone's scent so strongly before, and he's nearing thirty. He'd think they were scent-mates if he believed in that kind of thing. The Barneses are probably not much older than him, either, if they were in the army with Sam. And Sam wouldn't be friends with them if they were shitty people—Tony knows him well enough to trust his judgment.

It's worth a shot.

So Tony takes a deep breath and agrees. "Uh, yeah. Sure. As long as they're not mad. Tell Sam he can give 'em my number."

* * *

Strength of his own reaction aside, Tony may not believe in scent-mates, but James—no, _Bucky_ and Steve Barnes do. They text to coordinate a meeting—not a date, just an early dinner and maybe some coffee at the Barnes' to feel each other out. Tony shows up on their doorstep late Saturday afternoon nervous as hell. The alpha and beta couple won't know Tony spent his heat getting off on their residual scent on his clothes, but _Tony_ knows he was a total creep, and feels a little guilty.

Not guilty enough to regret anything. Just enough to know he _should_.

Tony's prepared for the wall of mouthwatering scent to hit him when the front door opens; he dealt with it for a full week while dog-sitting.

He's not prepared for the brunet holding the door open, and the blond holding onto Dodger's collar—while the rambunctious dog tries to reach Tony to deliver excited welcoming licks—to be smoking hot.

Tony's used to being around hot people, thanks to growing up the son of Howard Stark of Stark Industries, but wow. Steve and Bucky are demigod-tier gorgeous.

Both look at him a little wide-eyed, and then the brunet slides a soft-looking lock of hair that's slipped its bun behind his ear, and smiles with such quintessential beta charm that heat pools low in Tony's belly. "Tony!" Hot Brunet Barnes says. "Nice to finally meet you. Come on in—before Dodger rips Steve's arm off tryin'a say hello."

"You must be Bucky then," Tony says, unable to stop an answering flirtatious grin. This isn't a date, but now he really wishes it was.

A date that began with fucking.

"I am." Bucky closes the door.

Steve releases Dodger. The giant dog immediately launches himself at Tony, burrowing his sturdy muzzle into Tony's stomach and demanding to be pet even as he twists his head to lick Tony's hands when Tony tries to oblige. Tony spends what's probably an embarrassingly long time cooing at Dodger before realizing he's the center of his hosts' attention—albeit the pleased, amused kind.

"Well, he remembers you. And he likes you," Steve says, approving alpha scent stronger than what Tony's used to, and so heady as Tony bashfully straightens with a final scratch to Dodger's ears.

That's when Tony realizes why the Barneses are so secretive. "Oh," he says intelligently, looking between Captain America and the Winter Soldier, the special forces leaders who spearheaded the takedown of the international terrorist group Hydra. They and their unit were all over the news—and then movie screens—while Tony was getting his second doctorate at MIT. "You're national treasures. Guess that's why you didn't want to meet at a coffee shop."

Steve looks wary, but Bucky huffs a laugh through his nose. "Yeah. I love my smartphone, but ever since they did that movie, going out in public when everyone's got a camera in their pocket makes me feel like a zoo animal."

"I know what you mean," Tony says wryly. "My dad's Howard Stark."

Steve looks surprised. Bucky makes an intrigued noise.

"We've met Howard," Steve says.

"He makes good stuff," Bucky agrees. Then his expression turns teasing. "So we're national treasures, huh?"

Tony hopes he's not blushing when he quips back, "Well, the internet says it, so it _must_ be true." He pauses for effect, then adds, with a shrug, "The internet also says I'm Harry Potter though."

"Eh, get you some glasses," Steve begins with a smirk.

"Lightning-shaped scar," Bucky adds. "I can see it."

"You'll have to shave the beard though."

Tony draws back and puts a protective hand over his perfectly trimmed Van Dyke. "Not on your life."

Steve snorts. "We're not gonna shave it off you, Tony."

"Yeah, course not," Bucky says. Then his eyes hood and he smirks, looking Tony up and down like he wants to follow the path with his hands and tongue. "We save the kinky stuff for the third date, at least."

Tony sucks in a breath through his nose, and feels an electric tingle wind down his spine and settle in his ass at the implication these two might be open to kinkier stuff. "You save sex for the third date too?" he asks a little breathlessly.

"How 'bout we call this a date and find out?" Bucky purrs, closing the small gap between them.

The sharp scents of aroused beta and alpha hit Tony's nose, and his eyelashes flutter before he gets ahold of himself. He thinks he feels a trickle of slick inside his hole. "I'm down with that. Yeah," he says, voice deeper than it was a mere minute ago.

Bucky and Steve seem to notice, if their darkening blue eyes are anything to go by. That, or they smell how turned on Tony is; Bucky's standing so close Tony can feel his body heat—but Bucky won't reach out and touch.

Tony wishes he would.

If Tony cared to think about it, he'd admit that even for a sex-loving slut like him, this is moving a little fast. He can already feel himself getting _wet!_ It's just… Bucky and Steve smell so _good!_ Better than anything Tony's smelled in his life. The sensory impression, strong enough in their absence to trigger his heat a week early, is even stronger now that they're all in the same room. Given how rare scent-mates are, Tony's beginning to understand why people compare the impact of meeting yours to finding a soulmate; he's never felt so sure or right about a romantic relationship before, and he's only just _met_ Steve and Bucky. It's reassuring that they look as swept away by even this brief meeting as he feels. And it helps that they're nice, too. And funny. And scorchingly hot.

"Good," Bucky breathes against Tony's waiting mouth. He slides a warm hand down Tony's arm to curl around his fingers. "Come eat dinner, Tony. Then we'll see about dessert." He steps away with a wink and tugs Tony to follow— _past_ the bedroom, toward the kitchen.

The fucking _tease!_

But that's okay. Tony can wait. Bucky's just being a good beta: smart and level-headed, wanting to get to know Tony and lay a solid foundation for any relationship they choose to have before they rip each other's clothes off.

Which is fine.

Until Tony catches a hint of rut scent through the closed bedroom door and can't help jerking to a stop and blurting, "Here's an idea: dessert first. We should do that. Now. 'That' and 'dessert' are both _me_ , by the way."

Bucky stops and eyes him and Steve, assessing.

Tony shuts his mouth. He'd feel more like an idiot if that wisp of rut scent on the edge of his awareness wasn't so distracting—but it is.

And also, he meant every word he said.

Dodger sniffs their huddle, sneezes, and judgmentally lopes off to snatch one of the bones he has lying around and amble into the kitchen, presumably to lie on his dog bed and gnaw and doze in the waning sunlight until his dinnertime.

The twin sensations of Steve's big hands settling on his hips suddenly demand all of Tony's focus. He sucks in a breath that all but shudders back out when Steve lightly squeezes, and heat throbs low in his belly. His jeans have grown uncomfortably tight. He can feel himself getting wet—more than a phantom trickle this time. His free hand drops to cover Steve's, afraid of losing that intoxicating touch.

"And ruin your appetite?" Steve asks, close enough to Tony's sensitive neck that Tony shivers.

"I was thinking we'd work one up," Tony rasps, trying not to sway backward and press his wanton body against the hard planes of Steve's.

Steve presses forward instead, and nuzzles Tony's neck. His delectable scent, thickening with arousal, fills Tony's nose, and Tony can't help slumping against him and unconsciously baring his neck, omega hormones already yielding to the alpha Tony wants more than any who have come before.

Bucky's smile is slow and predatory as he slinks close again and lifts Tony's chin. His other hand tightens around Tony's, and his thumb starts rubbing in a distracting caress. "Oh, babydoll," he says, and his voice is the syrupy kind of faux-apologetic Tony thinks he'd use after deliberately ruining Tony's third orgasm in a row.

Oh, _fuck_. Tony trembles and feels a rush of slick inside him at the thought of Bucky edging him relentlessly.

"Is this really what you want?" Bucky asks.

Tony feels Steve tense against him. Sees in Bucky's focused gaze that if Tony says 'no,' everything will stop. They'll all go eat dinner and talk and flirt and get to know each other like a civilized triad starting a relationship.

Thing is, Tony's pretty sure they'll do all of that anyway— _after_ Bucky fucks him through two orgasms and Steve rounds things out with his knot. And if their movie was right about them being enhanced and incapable of getting sick or passing diseases, they can fuck him raw.

Maybe even for hours at a time.

Tony makes a needy sound high in his throat at the thought of getting railed for so long, and feels himself slicking up more.

Steve's answering growl is so hot Tony can't help grinding against him, feeling the hardness through his jeans that Tony wishes was inside him.

"Yes, definitely," Tony babbles, "this is definitely what I want. This, but with more naked and horizontal. In bed. Was that really—? Did you rut last week, during my heat?"

"You smelled so _good_ ," Steve groans before nipping Tony's neck and grinding his dick against Tony's ass.

"You did," Bucky agrees. "Triggered his rut a month early." He presses against Tony's front in a hot, hard line.

His thick thigh brushes against Tony's dick, and Tony can't help the little thrust he makes chasing it.

Bucky lowers his head, but the way he lightly, _teasingly_ , grazes their lips together only counts as a kiss on a technicality. Tony tries to follow when he pulls away, but Bucky's fingers on his chin keep Tony's head right where he wants it: where he can dip in again and again, plying Tony's mouth with shallow, drugging kisses to punctuate his intoxicating words. "Lasted maybe three hours before he got rut brain and threw me in bed, fucked me on sheets still covered in your heat scent," Bucky purrs between maddening kisses. "We were drowning in it for days, sugar. Wanted to drag you back here and put you on Steve's knot. Hear how wet you'd get full of my come, 'n after you've come on my cock a few times. Wanted to taste you so bad. You weren't even here and you were driving us _crazy_ , Tony."

And now they're driving _Tony_ crazy; even his breathing has taken an audibly desperate edge. Every filthy, wonderful word from Bucky's lips feels like liquid heat pouring down Tony's spine to pulse in his dick and make him even wetter. He doesn't think he's been this turned on in his _life_. He feels dizzy with their scents, like he can taste their arousal on his tongue, and his mouth waters, wanting to taste their skin, wanting to rub himself in their scent until he smells like them. Smells like _their_ omega.

"God! The _sounds_ you make," Steve mumbles. His soft mouth on Tony's neck shifts from sweet, careful kisses to bruising suction that makes Tony moan.

Bucky pushes Tony, which pushes Steve, and then they're at the bedroom and the door is thrown open, and Steve's fading rut scent hits Tony so hard his empty hole pulses with need, and his knees give out. Steve catches him, of course, those arms of steel locking around Tony's waist and making him ache for Steve to hold him down and make him _take it_. Tony's verbal filter gives up when his knees do. "Sweet holy mother of _fuck_ ," he moans. "I need you to fuck me. I need _someone_ to fuck me. Needed it for _weeks_. You— _Please_ , just—"

While Steve holds Tony, Bucky strips him. Tony's lamenting how fleeting Bucky's touches are until he realizes how hot it is that he's now naked in the arms of a fully-clothed alpha, who passes him off to a fully-clothed beta, who sets Tony, with surprising gentleness, in the middle of a bed drenched in horny beta and rutting alpha scents, then manhandles Tony's limbs until he's on his back with his hands curled around the metal bed frame, a pillow under his lower back, and his legs spread, all of him exposed for their perusal.

And peruse they do.

Tony knows how best to display himself though, so he does, wordlessly enticing them to touch, even as their sharp eyes pin him in place and seem to note his slightest movements.

But they stay where they are.

Tony's mind discards ordering, complaining, goading, joking, and letting go of the bar to touch himself; he can already tell none of those will get Bucky or Steve to do what he wants. So he finally whines, "Please—" only barely managing to cut off the "beta" that tries to follow it. Their relationship is too new for Tony to use such an intimate title, he _knows_ that, but what startles him is that for the first time, he wants to. He wants to call them his beta and alpha. He wants them to call him _omega_.

Bucky smirks as if he heard Tony's yearning thoughts, and his scent gains a thread of satisfaction and pride.

Steve looks at Bucky. His fists are clenched and he's breathing hard, but he holds back like a traditionalist, letting his beta call the shots for their first encounter. "Beta?" Steve asks, voice low and rough and almost as desperate as Tony feels.

"Soon," is Bucky's maddening reply. He methodically strips Steve: efficient, but slow enough to tease and highlight each gorgeous feature of the alpha he's putting on display. When he's finished, Bucky presses himself against Steve's naked body and kisses him with a sweetness that should feel contrary to how wildly turned on they all are, but instead seems fitting and beautiful.

And sexy as hell.

Tony whimpers, but keeps his hands clenched around the metal bar. It seems his instincts want _him_ to be a traditionalist too, which is a first. Still, he can't help spreading his legs wider or drawing his knees up in invitation.

The kiss breaks after an eternity that also feels far too short for Tony's voyeuristic needs, but then Bucky ticks his head at Tony and mercifully orders, " _Alpha_."

Steve grins sharply and crawls onto the bed like a predator unleashed. "Tony," he croons, stroking up Tony's torso and bending to nip his bottom lip, then using Tony's answering gasp to lick into his mouth, the clever bastard. When Steve finds out the fun way how sensitive Tony's nipples are, he breaks the kiss and grins. "Let's see how wet we can get you for Bucky's cock, hm?"

Tony is going to _die_. They really did bring him here to murder him.

Steve learns and plays Tony's body like pleasuring him is a skill he's determined to master, and it's heaven, and it's _torture_ , and Tony wants to touch but his beta said he _can't_ , and Tony needs a dick inside him _weeks_ ago.

Finally Bucky slinks, naked, onto the bed between Tony's spread legs. "Oh, sugar, look at you," he coos, hands sliding up Tony's legs, making him tingle from his ankles to his thighs. "Such a pretty omega, already being so good for us."

Tony can't help preening at the compliment, nor that his heart beats faster to hear it.

"You're going to tell us if we do something you don't like, aren't you?" It sounds like an order, not a question.

Tony nods emphatically. " _Yes!_ Roger that. Will do. Now can you _please_ just—"

Bucky traces the sensitive join of Tony's thighs and says, "Good boy," and Tony's words cut off in a moan. The moan just gets louder when Bucky laps at the head of Tony's cock, slides those sensual lips around it, and sucks _hard_.

Tony jerks—but Bucky's hands keep him pinned to the bed like it's nothing. Tony's hips jerk again: manhandling, yes; strength kink, also yes.

"Now, Tony," Bucky says in a voice that makes Tony hang onto every word, "You asked for dessert first, so that's what me and Stevie are gonna give you, for as long as you want. You just let us know when you're ready for dinner, okay doll?"

Tony hurriedly agrees.

It's his last coherent thought for hours.

* * *

In the end, they don't stop when Tony tells Bucky and Steve he's ready for dinner.

They stop when _Dodger_ does; the dog barrels in at 7:08pm and barks to inform them his dinner is late.

"I see who really runs this house," Tony slurs, feeling drunk on endorphins—and a little emotionally raw—as they all reluctantly get dressed.

"It's 'cause we got a late start," Steve says. "Next time, you should come over in the morning."

"Or just stay the night," Bucky suggests wolfishly.

Steve grins. "I like that plan better. Let's go with that."

Tony can't help smiling back, nor hoping his insecurities won't seep through when he asks, "So there's gonna be a next time? Officially?"

"Of course," Steve says, and pauses buttoning his shirt to kiss Tony on the temple. "Why wouldn't we want to see you again?" He huffs a short laugh, like the idea is ridiculous.

"Right?" Bucky agrees. He wraps an arm around Tony's waist and chucks him under the chin, then smirks down at him with the playful expression the past few hours have taught Tony to watch out for—even though he invariably enjoys the results. "We definitely want to see you again, Tony," Bucky says, laying a sweet kiss on the tip of Tony's nose. "How else will we get to the third date kinky stuff?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, kudos and comments are the way to let me know! Also, getting them makes me happy. ^_^ ♥


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